The Animal You've Become
by Raikovladi92
Summary: Chris Redfield is sent on assignment to a mansion, a mansion that's eerily similar to the Arklay mansion. He has no idea of the horrors or surprises that await him, or whom... MxM, Chris x Wesker, Chris x Various, BDSM, Non-Con, Beastiality, etc, etc.
1. Chapter 1

Note to All: I do not own the fabulous Resident Evil characters, Capcom does. I just get to have fun putting them in... hinky.. situations. Also, this story takes some ideas from Maiafay's 'Dark Ashes of the Phoenix', her writings rock my socks! 'Nuff said. Enough disclaimer, on to the story! ^.^  
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Chris Redfield was wary as he approached his intended destination. The ground had grown swampier in increments, the trees had become more overgrown, and the general atmosphere held a fatally ominous edge. Chris had been leery about accepting this assignment; a solo mission to a mansion that was eerily similar to the mansion in the Arklay mountains. But his sister, Claire, had assured him that all would be well.

'It's just a decrepit old mansion, Chris,' She had told him, 'If we thought that there was any real threat, we would've given you a partner.' The trouble was, S.T.A.R.S. 2 had been very shorthanded lately. Leon S. Kennedy was off on a trip to Spain, but had gone missing; and Ada Wong was still double and triple crossing everyone, her current "boss" being whomever would pay the most for her "services".

Chris approached a clearing, only to have his blue rustbucket of a Jeep go nosefirst into a bog. "Damnit! This is not what I needed right now." He grumbled angrily at his Jeep as he tried, in vain, to restart it. "I hate you right now..." He muttered as he grabbed any useful items that he could find before it sank. He then leapt free of the vehicle and began to slowly pick his way to the mansion.

Within a few moments, he came upon a crumbling stone wall that was much too high to scale, and a great rusted gate. He tested the gate, only to find it locked, but a few kicks easily broke its hinges. He traipsed up to the front doors of the mansion, always alert for any threat, to find the doors unlocked. He drew his gun and flashlight, and cautiously entered the grand foyer. The sight took his breath away. Though dark and musty, the foyer was an exact replica of the Arklay facilities; from the typewriter on a table near the stairs, to the moth-eaten red rug on the floor.

"Well, I'll be damned." He murmured. This facility, the Antarctic base, the Island base, and the Arklay mansion had all been designed almost exactly the same. One thing held the forefront of his thoughts: Those crazy Umbrella bastards really needed a new sense of style.


	2. Chapter 2

Okays, so a couple things to say before getting on with the story: One, yeah, the first chappy was short, but I hate reading a really long chapter to find out whether or not I'm gonna end up being interested in a story or not. Two, This Chapter shall be much longer (I think). And Three, Resident Evil still belongs to Capcom... Sad day. Thankies for your patience, and on to the story! ^.^  
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Chris began exploring, and found his mind returning to thoughts of that fateful day; that day of betrayal and death. Thinking of the Arklay incident made his heart ache and his blood boil; the memories were still too painful for him to bear. He sighed, and made his way through the left pair of double doors into what he knew would be the dining room. He was greeted by the lifeless, agonized groans of zombies. "Shit! And Claire said that there was no threat? Bullshit!" He cursed, leveling his gun at the nearest of the undead, and quickly shot it in the head. the other zombies seemed quite oblivious, and so Chris dealt with them just as easily. Chris was rather unsettled by the ease of his exploration, from how simply he could dispatch the zombies, to the sheer amount of useful items that he obtained.

By the time he made it to the storage room under the stairs in the North side of the mansion, he had accumulated over 100 handgun rounds, as well as quite an armload of the precious, life-giving Green Herbs. In the room, he found yet more ammo, a first aid spray, another typewriter, and... The Magic Storage Box of DOOM! (TM), as he had come to call them. They were anywhere and everywhere the virus had broken out, and Chris had to wonder if they too had been infected. He wondered this because of their uncanny abilities: he could leave items in one box, travel to a completely different location with a box, open the new box, and retrieve his earlier stored items. To be truthful, it scared him a little, but that was fine because of how useful they were. He also didn't quite understand how a lighter and a grenade launcher were capable of occupying the same amount of space when he was carrying them, or how useful items had a strange tendency to flash even if they weren't remotely glittery or sparkly in nature. The other thing that he found a bit intimidating were the typewriters. He had found early on that he could type his name and location on one of them, and if he died he would be miraculously reincarnated where he'd last "saved". S.T.A.R.S. 2 had put a lot of time and effort into trying to figure out how exactly these phenomena came to occur, but Chris supposed that he shouldn't put too much thought into it; it would be looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Chris sighed and opened the box; he didn't have time to idle about and daydream about the physics of boxes or typewriters, and yet ever since the Arklay incident, he'd found himself "zoning out" far more often than was safe. He stored his Herbs and first aid spray, and collected yet more rounds from the box; the boxes always had "gifts" for him, and he was at this point fairly certain that he was going crazy; inanimate boxes didn't give people gifts, and they certainly weren't capable of rational thought. But if they were... Chris mentally slapped himself; now he was thinking that boxes could communicate, that they had their own strange box society out to get him. With that last unsettling thought, Chris turned to the typewriter and logged his data; he figured it was best to get out of the room ASAP because he was feeling a bit claustrophobic, not to mention crazy.

Chris left the storage room and continued his trek around the mansion, collecting items as he went and avoiding undead and boxes wherever he went. Finally, he had explored every area that he could get into, but found himself facing a roadblock: A large, metal security door. There was a keypad beside it, but Chris had no idea what the code could be. As far as he knew, he hadn't collected anything that would help him to get in, either. From what he could see, the door had many locking mechanisms, and he was certain that there were other precautions to keep people out. Chris felt his heart sink. He had come all this way and explored most of the mansion, only to be stopped by a door. And, come to think of it, he had no way to get back home. He was stuck. Stewing on this, he returned to the main foyer to sit upon the staircase and consider his options once again. Again he came to the woeful conclusion that there was nothing for him to do. Just as he thought this, he heard a husky, familiar chuckle from behind him; he turned to look, and all went black.

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Muahahahaha! I love a cliffhanger! But... you all know who hit him. S' okay. And... sorry about the randomness with the boxes. It's something I've always pondered whilst playing the games. I felt that it'd add a... humorous edge. The drama and angstiness will start in the next chappy, so no worries, and if you've kept reading, I thank you. (Told ya there would be more to read this chapter...) See ya next chappy! ^.^


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